Lines in the Sand
by ifyoucanfindmeimhere
Summary: "To anyone else his face is perfectly stoic and impassive, concentration fully upon the proceedings, but the past few years have taught her to read him better than anybody in her life, and she can clearly see that his attention is split."


She can feel the weight of his gaze on her, feel him examining and scrutinizing from his perch across the wardroom. He does it surreptitiously, and any time she looks his way his eyes are carefully watching whoever is talking, following the action as questions and responses bounce between the prosecutor and witness. To anyone else his face is perfectly stoic and impassive, concentration fully upon the proceedings, but the past few years have taught her to read him better than anybody in her life, and she can clearly see that his attention is split.

As soon as she looks away she senses it again, and despite the pressure and stress and worries that have conspired to almost smother her over the last few weeks, just the stroke of his gaze is enough to push a little of the pressure back, and she feels the muscles of her face pull towards a smile before she manages to tamp it down.

Her thoughts stray back to the evening they shared four nights ago, when she turned up unannounced at his quarters. She hadn't told him about the appointment, determined not to worry him before anything was certain. With her worst fears confirmed, she left lifestation in a daze, and without conscious decision wound up at his door. He had ushered her in, offered her a seat and part of his dinner, but she had declined, trying to get through what she had to say without making eye contact, knowing if she did the tenuous control she had on her churning emotions would shatter.

In three short sentences she had told him what she had to, and turned back around to leave. He caught her at the hatch, grabbing her wrist to pull her towards him, and cupping her jaw to force her to look in his eyes. His expression was open and unguarded, and what she saw there- affection, compassion, and pure, unadulterated fear- took her breath away. When her knees buckled his arms were there, pulling her to him and all but carrying her to his rack, where for hours he soothed her, rubbing soft circles in her back and whispering over and over that it would be alright, that they would face this together. She sobbed silently, clutching to the front of his robe like a lifeline until exhaustion finally claimed her and she fell asleep.

He was gone by the time she woke the next morning, feeling miraculously rested and even renewed, and since then his role in the trial has necessitated that their daily meetings and strategy sessions are taking place over the wireless before and after their long days instead of in person and over meals or a drink. Though their talks quickly stray to other matters once business has been conducted, he hasn't brought up what she told him again, not directly anyway. She's certain he knows the details by now- she left permission with Cottle to discuss things with him, fully aware that he needs and deserves to know, even though she can't fathom the thought of discussing particulars with anybody yet, even him. He asks how she's feeling, and she answers honestly- a bit tired, stressed, ready for this mess of a trial to be over.

When he quickly changes the subject, she knows he has heard what she hasn't said, that there is so much yet to come, and how she needs him to be there for that even more. She knows she can't do it without his support; if she is honest with herself, without him next to her, she knows she wouldn't even bother to try. The cost of that confession to her own dignity is high, but she has decided at this point that she simply does not give a frak.

Across the courtroom, he catches her eye, and she knows he saw the unbidden smile as it flittered across her face for a split second. In turn she notices the minute raise of one his eyebrows in its own hidden response, and the relief and joy that she finds in that tiny gesture is palpable. She takes a deep, cleansing breath, the atmosphere in the courtroom suddenly losing some of it's stifling, accusatory air.

Another day, maybe two, and this will be over. She's ready to refocus her energy on the next battle, the one that has suddenly become the most important struggle in her life. What she's about to take on had for a long time seemed unfathomable, but knowing he will be by her side every step of the way, she thinks perhaps together they have a chance of coming out on top of one more impossible situation together.


End file.
